


embrasse-moi, mon chéri

by serpienten



Series: embrasse-moi, mon chéri [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Kisses, Spy!Reader, shy bucky, smitten!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 19:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21124073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpienten/pseuds/serpienten
Summary: A series of drabbles about kisses, a tumultuous relationship and two lovesick and battered superheroes with a traumatic past and a, hopefully, bright future.





	embrasse-moi, mon chéri

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this one! I haven't written anything worth publishing in a while so I'm kind of proud of this. Let me know how you felt about this one and if you're excited for the next chapter :]

She thinks she might be in love.

She’s never been in love before. It’s terrifyingly unfamiliar, what she’s feeling. Her heart flutters in her chest with every brush of his fingers against hers and the second the gentle touch is gone, it leaves a tingling behind that threatens to set her nerves afire. Every glance he shoots her way spreads a warmth throughout her, a blissful warmth that reaches every last part of her body from her earlobes to the tips of her toes. The feeling’s heady, dizzying, makes her lightheaded and doesn’t for one second fail to scare the crap out of her.

She’s never scared.

But it’s only their first real, actual date and she’s giddy like a foolish teenager who’s been asked out for the very first time. And foolishness or naiveté is completely unlike her.

She’s a top-notch spy, only rivaled by Nat, purely suave, smooth, soft speech, and lethal red smiles. Deadly and seductive, she’s a mystery wrapped in tight, form-fitting fabric, sharp wit, and charm. Heads turn whenever she saunters past, catching the eye of both women and men, gazes dropping to her tantalizingly swaying hips. She’d be lying if she says it doesn’t make her heart flutter with pride, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being wanted, desired. By whom never really matters. What matters is making her targets fall for her hook, line, sinker, get handed hearts and secrets. 

After tonight, though, she couldn’t care less about the prying eyes of strangers. The only eyes she wants to be looked at by are slate blue, twinkling jewels and absolutely intoxicating. The only person she wants to be looked at by is him. James. Bucky.

He’s shy at times, bashful, and seeing his cheeks redden or seeing him lower his head and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear makes her want to wrap him up in a blanket and give him tea. But when he isn’t, when he’s confident, cock-sure, cracking jokes and flirtatious as all hell, she longs to tear the blanket off of him and do other things. When he’s like that, and when she’s there, he likes to reach out and touch her. It’s usually an arm around her shoulder when they’re talking to Sam or Steve or Nat, or when she’s at the compound for movie nights, Bucky sits next to her, legs comfortably spread out, knee resting against her leg, and after a while, his head dropping to her shoulder. Sometimes, he even takes her hand in his, puts his large palm over hers and brushes his thumb over her knuckles.

And he’s always gentle.

There’s no moment in time when she doesn’t like Bucky, but she likes him the best when he’s happy. When he’s carefree. When Bucky’s free of all the demons that haunt him when he’s most vulnerable.

She loses a piece of herself every time he holds her hand, looks at her like she’s the most precious thing on earth, treats her gently and respectfully and so goddamn softly she could cry right on the spot. Softness is something she’s hardly accustomed to, and even though she usually likes to be handled a little rougher, she basks in his gentle affections.

She’s a master at bringing people to their knees, but she’s putty in his hands, melted ice dripping down his fingers and all she can hope for is that he feels the same about her.

And it’s only their first goddamn date.

Just barely, she tightens her hold on his hand as they walk down the street, the orange glow of the streetlights illuminating their path. They’re shoulder to shoulder, fingers intertwined, talking quietly.

“-and then he put them into the fridge. Can you believe that?”

“You know, there are reasons why I don’t live in the compound, and this just made the list.”

A laugh bursts out of Bucky’s mouth and in an instant, she can’t help but grin up at him. He shakes his head, a fond smile still curling the corners of his lips upward after his laughter quietens down.

“Yeah, yeah. I get how Sam’s underwear in the fridge would cause a real loss of appetite in the morning. To be fair though, he’s never been that drunk.” Bucky starts to draw circles on the back of her hand while he speaks. “He swears it was a one-time thing and so far, he’s been true to his word.”

A short laugh bubbles up her throat. Goosebumps arise on her skin from the gentle stroke of his thumb and, barely able to suppress a shiver, she can’t resist trailing the fingers of her other hand up his suit jacket-clad arm - fancier than usual, it’s a date after all - and lets it settle in the crook of his arm. She can be a little closer to him that way, feels his supersoldier warmth seep through the fabric of her jacket. 

She’s never even realized how cold she’s been before feeling him.

Bucky chances a long glance down at her. For a moment she thinks he might say something else, he even breathes in and opens his mouth a little as though he’s about to speak, but he ultimately decides against it. She wishes she could see what’s going on inside that beautiful head of his. He’s always hard to read though, even for her. 

Silence settles between them as they stroll ahead. It’s in no way uncomfortable, instead, it envelopes them like a blanket, encapsulates them in their own little cozy, intimate bubble that feels more like home to her than anything ever has.

Her cheek nearly brushes his shoulder as she lowers her head, looking down at their intertwined fingers, heart still aflutter. The unfamiliar rhythm, the rapid thrumming in her chest had started the moment she’d set eyes on him for the first time and has only gotten stronger over time the closer she and Bucky got, the more he opened up to her and the more she trusted herself to come forward to him. And tonight the beating threatened to punch the breath out of her lungs.

She could’ve walked with him like this forever. Together, close, snuggled up against Bucky, not only warm on the outside but with a spark inside her that chases away every single bit of icy chill that has settled inside her over the years.

So, she’s understandably devastated when they arrive at her apartment building. Her arm drops from his but she doesn’t let go his hand, outright refuses to lose more contact than necessary. Bucky steps in front of her, chest to chest, a soft, tender smile pulling at his smooth, pink lips. She wonders what it would feel like to taste them, nip at them. Perhaps a little bit like heaven. Her teeth capture her bottom lip and bite down.

“Well,” she breathes, hair flying over her shoulder in a fluid motion as she throws a short glance behind her, “this is me.”

Bucky nods, something else joining his fond expression, flitting across his features and darkening his stunning blue orbs a bit. Something sadder.

“Yeah, I guess,” he says, the volume of his voice matching hers.

“I had a great time tonight,” she admits. “Actually, I had an awesome time tonight. The best time in a really, really long time. Thank you.”

Bucky’s cheeks gain a rosy tinge and the grin that adorns his face is endearing, absolutely adorable. “Don’t thank me, doll. For you, I…” The grin softens a little and he shakes his head. “Anything for you.”

It’s her turn to blush, heart in her throat. “You really are precious, aren’t you?” She wants him to stay, imagines what it would feel like to fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the same place. Safe and loved. Appreciated and respected. She’s never in her life felt as high above in the clouds as tonight and she’s finally come to the conclusion that it’s all him. It’s all Bucky who’s making her heart, her head, her everything soar.

She doesn’t want to say goodbye yet.

The tip of Bucky’s tongue darts out to wet his lips and the movement draws her in.

Every passing second makes her realize that their time together is coming to an end for the day and, my god, she hates it.

She does not want to say goodbye yet.

Hopeful, she looks up at him, yearning for him to give her something to hold on to when he leaves to go back to the compound. Disappointment washes over her when all he does is draw his lower lips between his teeth and clear his throat. He’s all up in his head again and she knows it.

Giving a small nod, she runs her hand up his chest and grabs onto his shoulder as she leans up and presses her lips to his cheek, neatly trimmed stubble scratching and tickling her mouth. Bucky draws in a shuddering breath when he feels her touch, grabbing her hand that’s still in his harder.

He smells otherworldly and she has to actually force herself to take a step back and not stand here forever, snug against the hard muscles of his upper body.

“Goodnight,” she susurrates. She turns, hand beginning to slip from his grip.

Time seems to catch up with Bucky too now, because he suddenly grips her hand tighter, more desperate and suddenly, she’s scarcely got time to be surprised, he pulls her back, arm looping around her waist. She can’t help but think how right he feels against her, fitting snugly, her missing puzzle piece. Nimble fingers grab the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling at him, pulling him down to rest her forehead against his.

“I don’t want this to be over yet,” she quickly says, faces only inches apart, breathing each other in. Bucky’s scent clouds her mind, the heady cologne, earthy, sandalwood, leather and smoke wrapping around her.

He shakes his head, hastily. “I’ll be damned if I let you go up there without givin’ you a proper send-off, darlin’. I ain’t gonna half-ass this.” His voice is thick with emotion, conviction most of all and the Brooklyn drawl makes one of its rare appearances.

“Oh, darlin’,” she chuckles, rejoices when Bucky huffs out a tiny laugh, “I’m dying to see what that send-off looks like.”

Bucky gives her a nod, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tilts his head forward, bumping his nose softly against hers. “Good,” he rasps. Their mouths are close enough to be touching each other, close enough to taste and feel nothing but the two of them.

The tension, crackling electricity is getting stronger, harder to bear. She combats the urge to lean forward and press her lips against his, wanting to let Bucky make the first move. She’ll let him tread at his own pace, no matter how hard it is pulling on her nerves. She can’t resist whispering against his irresistible mouth, though. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Bucky bites his lower lip harshly. “Goddamit, doll, you’re….” He trails off again with a shake of his head and finally, finally leans forward.

It’s the softest pressure against her mouth, sweetest of brushes and the most alluring of tastes and it lights her insides on fire. She’s burning, harboring a raging fire inside, searing hot and for a second she’s afraid that it’s singing him because she feels him suck in a sharp breath. The kiss is delicate and she curves into him, closer until they’re on the brink of coalescing. He feels divine. She’s become weaker in the knees, certain that if he wasn’t holding her, she’d for sure be falling right now. Well, she’s falling anyway, but he’s somehow always there to catch her.

It’s over far too soon. She swallows down a whine that threatens to escape her throat but what she can’t help is following his lips as he pulls back a little to take a deep breath.

Bucky chuckles, tightening his hold on her and giving her lips a short peck. “Gotta let an old man breathe, doll.”

Fuck breathing, she wants to say. Fuck air, if I can feel those hands holding me and those lips kissing me I’ll gladly die right on the spot.

Instead, she cups his face between her hands, thumb tracing the outline of his lower lip. “I know you got a mission in the morning, but do you wanna come upstairs?” She captures his lips in another deep, sweet kiss. “I’ve got cookies,” she mumbles against his mouth.

He snickers into the kiss. “I’m usually not persuaded so easily but cookies? If they’re chocolate chip I might just faint.”

Smirking, she takes a small step back and waves towards the entrance to the apartment building. “You’re gonna have to come and see, aren’t you?”

Her heart feels lighter than air in her chest when he beams at her, slips his fingers through hers and pulls her inside.

Yeah. She’s definitely in trouble.


End file.
